


Pterodactyl

by TwentySevenSorceress



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: And there's a tiny bit of light angst, Coran Deserves Happiness, Coran loves earth and kittens and everything pure and wholesome, Fluff, Kittens, Lance and Coran hanging out, Lance being Lance, M/M, Okay it's ridiculous fluff I'm sorry, Post-Defeat of Zarkon, With ice cream and kittens
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-18
Updated: 2017-07-18
Packaged: 2018-11-29 04:46:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11433453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TwentySevenSorceress/pseuds/TwentySevenSorceress
Summary: When the war ends and the team can finally return home, Lance decides there's one thing to do that cannot wait. (The one where Lance gets Coran a cat, because how else do you welcome someone to Earth?)





	Pterodactyl

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



> Inspired by starfishsocks' fanart of Coran holding a cat, and her subsequent defense of said drawing's existence. Congrats on finishing your six paragraphs, I guess. Sorry about the disappointment of a fic! I'm talking to you too, noatthegoat.
> 
> It was requested that the theme be "Coran Deserves Happiness", and that Coran have a starring role. There's a little Klance at the beginning, but it's mainly Lance & Coran bonding and whatnot. I tried to keep it light hearted.

Lance bounced his leg restlessly as he peered out the window of the shuttle, his heart racing and his breathing quickening despite his best effforts. Earth, he was finally there, he was ten seconds away from being able to taste the air and kick at the dirt. There was sunlight dancing across the inside of the ship, light that came from his sun, not any other solar system's. Oh, he hadn't seen an ocean since he'd left Earth, only seen the blue swirling on the surface from impossibly far away. His parents, his sister, his cousins back home- they still didn't know where he was. He ached just thinking about it, the contradictory injustice of the whole thing. He wouldn't be able to fly back until the Garrison gave him the go ahead, and the thought of being closer to his family than he had in several months, yet not being able to go to them left him flustered and frustrated and _unfulfilled._

"Get a grip, Lance." Keith shifted beside him, sliding his fingers from where they had been intertwined with Lance's to rest on his shoulder. Their hands were still gloved, as neither of them had taken off the Voltron suits before arriving. Shiro had said that the choice would aid their cases if they were prematurely spotted by the Garrison's guards. Nevertheless, Lance kind of missed the skin on skin contact.  "If you explode right now, you'll never get to see any of it. If you're planning on spontaneously combusting, I'd recommend that you give it at least two weeks of contemplation."

And there Keith was again, doing the thing where he attempted to counter Lance's mood with his characteristic gruffness. It shouldn't have worked, but it did, and Lance could never quite figure out why. Nevertheless, he was always grateful for a distraction.

So he snorted. "Very funny, dude. Pardon me for wanting to return to my freaking _home planet_. At least I haven't spent the flight _brooding in the corner,_ like someone else I could mention."

Keith scowled, crossing his arms and turning his shoulders away. "I do not _brood_."

Oh, he was not going to get away with saying that senence like... like it was some sort of fact. Lance raised a dubious eyebrow, leaning closer. "Look, I know I'm probably breaking the boyfriend code by bringing this up, but-"

"There is no such thing as the boyfriend code." Keith shrugged, face irritatingly impassive.

He sighed, making sure to be as loud and overexaggerated as possible when he did. "It's not, like, an established public document, Keith! It's this general unwritten collection of expectations-"

Keith smoothed one hand over half his face, exasperation written clear in every line of his expression. Lance was once again reminded that Keith was at is most adorable every time he was annoyed, which factored more into his decisions to annoy him than he would ever feel confortable thinking about at legnth.

"What kind of mescaline induced-" Keith began, but Lance cut him off with another too-loud sigh. There was no way he'd be able to get the upper hand here without knowing any of what Keith was saying. He really should have made a bigger deal about it, but it was so oddly endearing that he couldn't bring himself to say a relevant word. Lance settled for narrowing his eyes.

"What the hell is _mescaline-"_

Keith fixed him with a look that said _are you kidding me_ , with no discernable room for alternate interpretation. "Are you _seriously_ going to ask me-"

"Hey, idiots!" someone shouted, an earsplitting metallic banging noise suddenly echoing in the chamber.

Lance winced at the sound, jerking away from Keith, head whipping around to rest on the source of the outburst: Pidge. She stood silhouetted in the open doorway, clenched fist slowly moving away from the steel shuttle wall and her expression thoroughly disapproving. "Can you two maybe do this later? Preferably in a room, the kind that's locked and has a towel shoved underneath the door?"

Lance scoffed at the insinuation. Sure, maybe Pidge was accidentally on the right track, but that didn't mean she had to know that. "Back off, Pidge. What's the issue with some run-of-the-mill banter-"

"Look around for a second, will you?" She crossed her arms, gesticulating wildly around the empty ship.

The empty ship.

Everyone was gone, the seats were unoccupied- Lance even spotted Hunk's abandoned yellow helmet lying on the floor, nestled against the chrome of the wall. He quietly shuffled to the side and scooped it under one arm, promising himself he would give it to his friend later. Looking up, he met Pidge's unamused glare.

"Um..." he hummed, trailing off into a painfully awkward silence.  

Keith shifted uncomfortably beside him, likely also embarrassed about having been so caught up in arguing that they had failed to notice the rest of the crew filing out of the ship. Seriously, how had even the footsteps eluded his hearing, everyone had worn their heavy armored boots for fuck's sake.

Lance seized Keith's hand and stood up, yanking the other boy up with him. "Yeah- let's, um. Let's go."

Pidge rolled her eyes before leading them out. "God, Lance, you were so eager to get to Earth, you reminded me of my childhood puppy." He frowned, not knowing whether to be offended or not. "And of course, we finally get here, and you miss the big 'walking out into the sunlight' moment. In hindsight..." she turned her head in his direction cocking her head to the side like she was evaluating him. "It should have been easily predictable."

He winked, following her out, watching his step as he strode past the threshold of the doorway with Keith half a step behind him. "The last thing I _am_ is predictable, okay? I am the epitome of unexpectedness." He dropped his voice to a consciously loud fake-whisper as he hunched almost imperceptibly forward. "See that? _Epitome._ Learned that one from Keith, he used it during this one rant about how unbearable I am, but I never really felt the punch."

 He could hear Keith exhale slowly behind him, but Lance was pretty sure that it was out of grudging amusement rather than pure frustration. "I'm not dignifying any of that with a response."

Pidge chuckled. "Classy."

The desert was scorching and Lance could immediately feel the sweat starting to bead up on his brow, but he couldn't care less. He had always thought that the area where the Garrison was built smelled too much like dead things- he had never been too fond of deserts. The beach, now _there_ was a place awash with vitality and vividness. Here, it was as if the life had been leeched from everything, taking the color and the rustle with it. But now, however, everything around him made his thoughts rush in a way he hadn't anticipated. So close, so close to home. He ignored the way his feet fell on sand that was too packed and hardened, and focused on the breaths of hot, dry air he silently drew into his lungs.

Pidge sidestepped a particularly tall traffic cone, pointing across the airfield to the section of the edge where Shiro, Hunk, Allura, and Coran had gathered. Lance narrowed his eyes, able to discern Shiro's figure facing the Garrison's nearest window, tension written in the rigid lines of his posture. He let his eyes flicker to Keith, who had an unreadable expression on his face and something Lance had never seen before brewing behind his eyes. He shuddered a little, momentarily overwhelmed by the precipice the team seemed to be rapidly approaching. Lance tightening his grip on Keith's hand and breathed in deep. They would all figure it out, eventually. They had time. They had all the time that would fit in the rest of their lives.

Feeling a bit dizzy, he looked up to the sky, and it was cloudless and blue as it always was in the paintings- the paintings that seemed so supernaturally perfect that they couldn't possibly be recreations of reality. _Earth._ Every molecule in the dirt and grass and scalding iron core was something that belonged to it. And after what had felt like an eternity of having no real place to call home, only a base stationed on an empty planet and a nothing but a war to give him purpose at all, it overwhelmed him to no end.

They reached the grass near the Garrison's airfield where the rest of the Voltron team stood, all seeming somewhat dazed and glassy eyed, as if they couldn't quite believe that what they were seeing was real. Lance recalled with grim apprehension his own dreams back during the war against Zarkon, where he was back on Earth with his family, only to wake up to the sound of the drill alarms blaring or Allura's voice over the intercom. At the darkest, most hopeless point of the war, Earth had seemed like a dream in its entirety, nothing more than a vivid mirage that grew bleaker and bleaker with every life that was snuffed out in front of his very eyes.

As they approached, Keith muttered under his breath, mouth right up next to Lance's ear- "Lance, you're not okay." He could feel Keith's breath hot on the shell of his ear, and bit his lip as he tilted his head away ever so slightly. "Neither are you," he hissed back, taking another step forward. His ardent pace had grown shakier with each step, and he steadied the set of his shoulders to hide it. Closer to the training academy that used to be his entire life, that used to be his only hope- it's mission now seemed so laughably small in the face of his experiences fighting the grand, intergalactic war of the millennium.

He didn't even notice when they came to a stop, only a couple feet from Shiro's still back. Lance tried to hide his flinch as the Black Paladin cleared his throat, tearing his gaze away from the Garrison. "We'll notify them of our return shortly. I do not want any of you to be kept from your families any longer, so... it's only fair to you that I give you a few days before the Garrison splits us up for interrogation."

Lance found himself nodding without thinking, realizing that the other Paladins were mimicking the movement, too.

"I thought you all lived in different places?" Coran piped up, confusion coloring his features.

Shiro coughed, averting his eyes. "Um, about that, would you mind...?" he gestured to Allura's castle, just a short distance away.

Coran's eyes lit up, and he seemed to stand straighter, puffing out his chest a nominal but recognizable amount. "Of course not, my good man. We will take any of you anywhere on this planet that you must drop by!"

Lance could feel the grin splitting his face, almost hurting his cheeks. He was going home via Altean spaceship castle. Hell _yes._

Shiro smiled blandly, turning back to the school. "Thanks so much, Coran. As for your guys' reenrollment, or questionable lack thereof... I'll figure it out. Please don't worry about it. Go," he said, waving his hand in the direction of the nearby city. "Nearby", in this context meaning "about four miles away.  "I'll contact you all soon."

Something in Lance broke a little at the sound of his voice, raspy and breaking as if he'd just been released from the hospital. But his family, they were so close, they didn't know, they didn't know anything beyond his disappearance. The Garrison would never reveal the finer details, which was substantial, seeing as they didn't even know the vast majority of the actual details.

 Lance turned to Keith, who was staring resolutely at the ground with his face set in a strangely resigned expression. Lance tilted his head, maybe he was reading him wrong. "Keith?"

"It's okay, alright? Go, see your family. They're probably worried sick, thinking they might've lost you. I'll stay here with Shiro." Keith's voice sounded too measured, too natural, the flow that signified conscious effort pressing into the dips and rises of his tone. "I don't mind, I swear. I know you've been waiting forever."

Lance stepped back, reaching up to scratch behind his neck as he fixed his eyes pointedly at the area just above Keith's head. "Look, I was wondering if you would... you know." He jerked  his head towards the castle. Suddenly, the sun felt warmer and he could feel the blood rushing to his face as the moment seemed to stretch longer than it truly lasted. It was bitterly ironic that of all the things, this is what made his heart race the fastest and his breath freeze. He had fought in combat positions during a futuristic, chaos ridden space war against a dark overlord. He had ducked behind ramshackle walls to escape the line of fire that seared his skin as it passed dangerously close, he had come within the smallest fraction to death more times than he could count, watched his life flash before his eyes as he threw himself back into the dance with mortality again and again and again... and yet this was what brought him down. Asking his boyfriend to meet his parents.

It was truly pathetic.

He mustered the courage to meet Keith's eyes (seriously, why was he so damn suave with every passing girl, yet freaking Keith Kogane was beyond him in every single way) and was met with pure confusion and utter loss. "No, I don't think I do know." The words were devoid of any sarcasm whatsoever, merely delivered in a funny monotone, as usual.

Fucking Keith.

"For fuck's sake, Keith!" he grumbled. He gestured wildly towards the castle, his right arm flailing. "I'm asking you to come home with me, dumbass."

Keith's eyes went wide as the meaning of Lance's words settled in, as he comprehended what what he was proposing would entail. "Oh."

This was it- Keith looked like he was two seconds away from not-so-politely declining, and then proceeding to pull a way and cause them to slowly grow apart and prompt Keith to brood about how Lance was moving too fast and Lance would spend forever wishing that he hadn't fucked up something so perfect with his stupid, big mouth-

And then Keith was pressed up against him, their skin burning in all the places that they touched. His lips were soft and tender against Lance's, more so than he could ever recall them being. His head was just starting to spin and he was just starting to lose his bearings when he felt a quick press of a steady palm to his lower back and Keith pulled away, the kiss over much too soon.

There was something close to a smile dancing at the corners of Keith's mouth, which was something he hadn't quite seen before, but figured was probably a good thing. Lance was reminded of where they still were when he caught sight of Pidge over Keith's shoulder and froze up. But she wasn't smirking or gagging or anything else he would've expected her to do, but instead grinning wildly and raising a thumbs up towards him, almost like a toast. It was almost like she'd been able to see his internal struggle play out on his face, and fuck- that was probably what had happened.

"I'm guessing that's a yes?" Lance inquired, beginning to follow Pidge in the direction of the castle.

Keith smirked moving up to walk beside him. " _Yes,_ you idiot, yes."

Hunk and Coran shuffled over to accompany them, wide smiles on both of their faces. Lance silently held the yellow helmet out to Hunk, who reached out and took it, cradling it in his hands as if he feared it might break. The memories that hovered around it were toxic and destructive, but there was something else, too. The endless months they had spent training and living and _being_ together, being each other's only hope to stamp the evil from the universe.

"Thanks, Lance," he sighed, nodding his head quickly in his direction. That was all he needed to say.

"Allura says she will stay behind while we go around your country, because she must speak to Shiro!" Coran declared, the same jovial tint back in his voice. Lance grinned at the sound. Coran's optimism was always welcome, its infectiousness had really helped him through some of the worst spots in his career as a Paladin. Even though the chipper attitude was somewhat confusing in this context, he decided to roll with it. "Which is a fantastic thing," Coran added, "because she's really the only one who can get through to him. But until we meet up with those two, I cannot _wait_ to see your Earth. Lance, you made it sound so _interesting._ I'm interested in trying those waffle things you were talking about, and going to a fast food restaurant! Does the food zip around the perimeter before landing on your table?"

Keith huffed his laughter into his shoulder, but Lance quivered with the force of his own. He caught the dopey smile Keith sent his way as he was trying to calm down, but the laughs just kept bubbling out of his throat. "Oh, Coran. It's so much better than that. We Earthling humans? We have the world's most fattening, oil drenched, overstuffed food in the universe."

"Lance, you might be overselling fast food," Hunk pointed out. Lance opened his mouth to reply, the indignation getting to him, but Hunk continued before he could say anything. "Don't worry, Coran. I got the skills to make any recipe you throw at me." He patted the man on the shoulder, almost sending him toppling into a passing tree. "Oh, I can't wait to finally have real food again. The green slop was, by far, the worst part of being on Voltron."

Coran looked mildly offended. "I do hope that Altean food does not pale in comparison so much to your own," he said.

"Oh, just you wait," Lance laughed, giddy with just the thought of the sprawling possibilities that lay before them. "One bite of human food, and you'll never be able to return to Altean food _again_." He halted abruptly as he realized they had reached the castle's doorway once again, and he recalled the very first time he had  wound up before this very door, taken aback by all he saw.

As they all hustled inside to prepare once again for takeoff,  Keith nudged Lance's shoulder. "Just in case you were wondering, mescaline is a hallucinogenic compound that comes from the peyote cactus."

"You..." Lance shook his head in disbelief. "You are _such_ a nerd."

...

  **Three days later**

"Lance, Lance!" Coran cried, flipping rapidly through the pages of the illustrated book in his shaking hands. "Do you see this creature? It's like a bird with no feathers and a deformed head! It reminds me of this alien species that went extinct on Idustra a dozen or so millennia ago, it was really something."

Lance looked up from his DS to look at the picture Coran was holding up to his face, jumping back a little when he realized that the tip of his nose was brushing with the crinkling dryness of the inked up paper. "Dude, I can't read it when it's that close." He shuffled up so that his upper body was resting against his bed's headboard and shoved a stray, downy pillow to the side. Lance squinted at the picture, looking up at Coran with a grin when he understood. "Oh, that's a Pterodactyl." He frowned, eyes darting from Coran to the book. "Are... are you reading my sister's dinosaur book?"

He nodded enthusiastically. "She told me I could borrow it after I asked her about the cover!" Coran lifted the book up closer to his face, leaning just a bit too close to the image. "What did you say this was? A terradact?"

Lance shifted on the covers before swinging his legs over the side of the bed and scooting next to where Coran was seated, at the foot. The bed creaked obnoxiously loud, and he was once again reminded how strange it was that he had missed something so ultimately inconsequential, yet oddly staple. He was doing a terrible job of hiding his smile, he couldn't help but feel vindicated that Coran had taken to Earth so well. The man was seemingly entranced by the foreign feeling of the strange planet that seemed impossibly far behind the rest of them half the time, yet also impossibly farther ahead. Coran had realized this the first time Lance had shown him a chocolate chip cookie sundae on a warm brownie, drizzled in hot fudge. Human indulgence was a thing of beauty.

"A Pterodactyl," Lance said, moving his fingers to graze over the word. "See, look at the- no, actually, don't look at the word, it doesn't really help that much."

Coran's eyes widened. "Could I- could someone maybe _own_ a Pterodactyl?"

The hopefulness in his tone made Lance wince a little, he really did wish with all his heart that there were still Pterodactyls around so that he could get one for Coran. "Sorry, man. We're all out."

Catching sight of Coran's downcast eyes, Lance stood up ubruptly, mildly alarmed. "Hey, you know what? Let's go on a walk!"

Coran shifted, suddenly looking unable to sit still. There was a grin beginning at the corners of his mouth, but it stopped abruptly. "What about Keith, my boy?"

Lance rolled his eyes. "Newsflash, but he really isn't a morning person. Let the guy sleep, he just saved the universe."

"Er... so did we, you know," Coran murmured, wringing his hands quietly, his eyes quickly darting left.

Lance burst out laughing, clasping one handover his stomach and slouching forwards. "Don't I know it. However, _we_ are ready for another _adventure_!" He gestured grandly at his open bedroom door, casually extending his arm as far as he could. Tipping his chin up, he grinned. "Onwards, Coran!"

Lance spared a moment to shift his gaze to Coran himself, who looked absolutely delighted. Mission accomplished.

They rushed out, their footsteps thudding on the rough wooden floors. Lance stopped to slide his feet into his thin flip flops by the front door before hollering a farewell to whoever might be home and jogging out with Coran in tow.

...

The air was pleasantly warm and humid, not at all like the blistering bite of the desert's wind. It was fantastically rejuvenating to finally be _home_ , to finally be in the light sunshine wearing a T-Shirt and shorts with an ice cream cone in hand. It reminded him of summer vacation, back before his life had gotten so hopelessly complicated. The days when his most pressing concern was whether or not his favorite stores would be open late. All of this, right now, had faded to almost a dream while he'd been in space. He'd been so far above Varadero, fighting for so much _more_ that it... yet he didn't feel small here. It was comforting somehow, and he figured it was because he now had a more accurate impression of his place in the universe than he had ever had in his life.

Lance turned to Coran, and fought the urge to laugh out loud at the juxtaposition of his Altean clothing and the surrounding, sunny ease of the town. He couldn't really imagine Coran in anything else, though. The truly laughable notion was the man being dressed in human clothing... now _that_ was a horrifying thought.

"So?" he posed. "How was the mint chocolate chip, Coran?" He had been unable to resist dragging Coran to an ice cream parlor, and had felt justified when Coran had managed to finish the entire thing, cone and all, in about seven minutes.

Coran turned back, almost tripping over a cemented bump in the sidewalk when he averted his eyes. "Simply fantastic, my boy! I didn't know the humans had so much culinary prowess." He brought one hand up to stoke his chin. "If only Zarkon had had access to your planet's cultural reserves, perhaps he may have succeeded with his universal domination after all."

Lance coughed conspicuously into his fist, glaring pointedly at Coran. "Too soon, dude. Too soon."

"My apologies, Lance," he conceded. "Pardon my fanatical interest with your human customs, I never really comprehended from how far away you all came. Humans are not terribly well known in the galaxy, you know. But I have a feeling that one day, that shall change."

And Lance couldn't help but smile, because yes, Coran was an alien that was technically more than 10,600 years old(including the substantial bit that he had spent in stasis), but Lance had somehow managed to grow kind of close with the guy. There had never really been much time to thank him, what with Zarkon's incessant series of invasions. Now, though... now there was sunshine and melting ice cream and the sound of crashing waves, now there was sea breeze and long stretches of just _being_ that he didn't know how to utilize. It was really the least he could do.

Clearing his throat, he shifted his weight as he stopped walking for a second, before picking up again at a slower pace that Coran immediately matched. But before the words could leave his mouth, Coran began to talk.

"You know, my boy, you really are my favorite Paladin." The words were heavy and sincere, and they made the blood rush to Lance's face. "I know how much you missed Earth, and missed this Varadero place." He gestured towards the ocean before patting Lance on the back. "I'm proud of you, Lance. You did the right thing, and you took on your own pain to save your planet from having to take on the same burden. And that's not a choice that anyone so young should have to make.

Tears prickled in his eyes, but he pushed them back. Being reminded of the particulars of his ordeal made it difficult to repress or deny, which was how he had even gotten through the war in the first place. Lance took a deep breath, shaking his head. "It's a choice we _all_ had to make. We all missed home, we were all willing to die-"

"Of course, of course," Coran interjected. "And I would never cast doubt on any of that. All I'm saying is that I saw you struggling, Lance. And I saw you doubting your ability to see this through, and I could not be more overjoyed that you made it so far. Our victory... it wouldn't have been possible without you."

The words meant more to him than Coran likely knew, and Lance was a little at loss for what to say back. He rubbed across the back of his neck, gaze sheepishly averted to the ground. "I...uh, wow. Thanks, Coran. That... really means a lot."

"Anytime, my boy! You deserve to hear nothing less that the truth." Coran finished the sentence with a flourish of his left hand, and Lance laughed despite not really knowing what that was for.

"You know, Coran... you've sort of been like a father figure to me, ever since Voltron came together," Lance managed, fingers absently playing with the hem of his T-Shirt. "I just wanted to thank you. For... everything you've done." He shrugged, trying to make the gestures as casual as he could muster. Lance turned his face to the breeze instead of Coran, his huff of relieved breath lost in the gust.

"Well... I... I try, Lance. Thank you very much." Lance couldn't see Coran's face, but his voice was an odd mix of shock and gratitude. That was the thing about Coran, every word that came out of his mouth, the man indubitably believed to be true. Suffice it to say that Lance had so much more respect for him now, even more so with him standing in contrast to the beautiful ignorance of Earth.

"And you know," Coran continued, "I do genuinely believe that the ways in which-"

His speech abruptly cut off.

Startled, Lance whipped his head back to look at him, and saw that his gaze was clearly directed elsewhere. Brows furrowed, Lance followed Coran's line of sight to... a cat. A white one, with fluffy fur and a bent ear, purring contently in the arms of a young girl sitting on a worn wooden bench to the side of the walking path.

" _Lance_ ," Coran hissed far too loudly, tugging at Lance's sleeve. "What... is _that_?"

"Ummm..." Lance said, eloquent as always. He couldn't really read Coran's tone... in actuality, he was actually freaking him out a little and it would really put him at ease if Coran would stop gazing wide eyed at some little girl's cat like it was about to bestow the meaning of life upon him. "That's called a cat."

Coran took a half step towards the bench before freezing up again, and Lance narrowed his eyes in confusion. Were Coran's hands... shaking?

" _Lance_ ", he said again, keeping the same creepy whisper despite the lack of requests for an encore. "It's _so cute_."

Lance glanced from Coran to the cat, back to Coran. "Um, yeah. They're pretty cuddly."

Coran only nodded, his eyes still fixed on the white cat. "It's so _fluffy_ , look! Do you not see how wonderful this... this _cat_ creatures is?"

Now, as temped as Lance was to silently shuffle away, the look of pure awe on Coran's face stopped him. With a resigned sigh, Lance cleared his throat and walked up to the girl, who was still blissfully unaware of Coran's unblinking stare. "Hey," he said.

She tilted her head up to look at him, tucking a lock of dark hair behind one ear, fisting one hand apprehensively in the polka dotted fabric of her dress. "Hi?" she offered, eyebrows raised in clear skepticism. Up close, it was clear that she couldn't be more than ten at most, with the roundness of her face and smallness of her stature.

Lance flashed her a smile, gesturing to the animal in her lap. "So, my friend here absolutely adores cats, and he seems to have taken a liking to yours. Would you... mind letting him pet it?" He knelt down next to the bench, Lance caught the cat's iridescent eyes following the movement. The pavement dug into his knees, but it was bearable. "She's adorable."

The girl smiled softly, stroking her fingers gently over the cat's head and bringing her hand to rest on it's neck. "He, actually," she said. "His name's Sir Arthur." The girl said the name with an endearing, innocent lilt that made Lance forget to be embarrassed about the entire situation. Her eyes flickered to Coran with interest, tilting her head. "Do you like my cat, mister?"

Lance watched as Coran nodded enthusiastically, his joy absurdly contagious. He could already feel himself start to grow irrationally happy. "It's the most adorable thing I've ever seen," he breathed, the smile not fading in the slightest as he spoke.

Lance combed his fingers through the fur on Sir Arthur's back before repeating the motion with his palm pressed flat. Okay, this cat _was_ pretty adorable, and his fur _was_ unbelievably soft. There were worse things than cute animals lifting his spirits in the world. He should know.

"C'mon, Coran. Go on and pet him," said Lance. He gestured for Coran to come closer, and he bounded over to the bench as if he'd been waiting for permission. Shifting to give Coran more room, Lance watched as his expression grew from awe to joy as he carefully petted the cat, the genuine gentleness clear in the slow brushes of his fingers.

"Sir Arthur, did you say?" Coran scratched at the scruff of the cat's neck, looking absolutely delighted when he felt the purring against his hand. "What a fitting name."

With an amused snort, Lance stood up and thanked the girl again for acquiescing to his request. It took another five solid minutes before Coran could be led away, with Lance murmuring that unfortunately, they wouldn't be allowed to keep Sir Arthur. Taking note of the dazed expression of happiness on Coran's face, a spark of an idea danced in the back of Lance's mind.

A smile stretched slowly across his face. Oh, Coran definitely deserved more than a simple "thank you". Lance kept an eye out for animal shelters as they walked back to his house, making mental note of where to return to later.

...

**Three days later**

Lance peeked through the mesh of the small cage that rested on his bed, making eye contact with the incredibly fluffy ginger kitten inside. His tiny pink tongue darted out to lick his paw, and his heart melted a litte at the sight. But the way it looked at him seemed a bit... suspicious. Lance wasn't sure if cats could even roll their eyes, but it felt like this one desperately wanted to every time he looked to check that it was still there and that he hadn't merely dreamed up this scenario. But the giddiness was starting to get to him, and he just couldn't wait to see the look on Coran's face when he gave it to him.

He heard footfalls rapidly approaching his door, spinning around just in time to jump back at the sharp knock at the door. Lance jerked the knob and the door swung open with a telltale creak, revealing Keith in his sneakers and red jacket, all ready to go. Keith shifted his weight noticeably from side to side, jamming his hands into his pockets. "Lance."

"Keith," he deadpanned, trying to mimic the exact tone of voice that he had used. He crinkled his nose in frustration. He never could sound quite broody enough.

"How many times do I have to tell you that I _don't brood_?" Keith said, one eyebrow raised.

Lance cursed, dragging a hand down one side of his face. "I said that out loud, didn't I."

Keith shrugged one shoulder, stepping confidently into the room. "I'm beginning to suspect that you always do." He glanced around, rocking back and forth on his heels. "You ready to go?"

He nodded, curling his fingers around the cage's handle. He had already said his goodbye's to his family, which had been much harder than he had expected it to be. They all seemed scared that the Garrison would abruptly start sending them ambiguous messages about his whereabouts all over again, but he'd had to repeatedly assure them that he would be coming back, and coming back soon. Lance suspected he'd been babbling about how completely, utterly _over_ the fight against Zarkon was for about ten minutes straight. And still, no one had been completely satisfied.

Keith nodded quickly before kneeling down to peer into the cage. "You put all the food and toys on the ship, right?"

"Yup." Lance tapped on Keith's shoulder, then pointed to the door. "And you know how much it _pains_ me to interrupt your staring contest with Coran's kitten, but-"

Keith interrupted, seemingly unamused. "It's not _blinking_ , okay?" His shoulders tensed up as he leaned forwards, so that the tip of his nose touched the metal. "It's just... _watching_ me. Don't you think it's a little unnerving?"

Lance laughed, shaking his head in disbelief. "Keith. It's a kitten. It's what they do." But that didn't seem to put him at ease. 

"You don't seem to be unnerved..." Keith frowned. "I guess you don't see it."

"No, because you're seeing things."

"It's unrealistic," he claimed, jerking back when the kitten stood up and pressed its own face up against the bars. 

Seeing that Keith needed longer to work out his kitten issue, Lance set the cage back on the bed, snickering when Keith immediately shifted to keep the eye contact. 

Lance raised a dubious eyebrow, letting his fingers drift down to graze over the cage's latch. He made an attempt at covertness, but that wasn't really necessary, considering that this staring contest didn't seem to be letting up any time soon. "How exactly does a kitten look unrealistic? I thought that even _you_ would admit that he's adorable."

"That's what I'm talking about, Lance." Keith shifted, crossing his legs and resting his hands in his lap.

Smirking, Lance flipped the latch, and lifted the wired grid, moving as fast as he could to dodge Keith's attempt at retraining his arm. "Hey!"

There was a blur of orange as the kitten jumped down into Keith's lap, and curled into his chest. Lance stepped back, laughing, making absolutely no attempt to stifle the sound. "Awww, he likes you!" The words were stilted by his sharp intakes of breath between bursts of giggling. 

It was genuinely hard to stop when he caught Keith's priceless expression of pure confusion as the kitten arched up and began swiping at his hair. "Ugh, what- is-it- doing?" His words fell around his attempts to shove the kitten's paws downwards, which only seemed to embolden its swipes. 

"Cats tend to like long hair." Lance shrugged, grinning at his boyfriend, which was met with an unamused glare. "He acted the same way around my sister, I mean-"

"Why'd you let it out, Lance?" Keith sighed. But he acquiesced, wrapping an arm around the kitten and pressing it to its chest. It purred pleasantly, nuzzling his neck. 

Lance did his best to look completely impassive, and pretend like the sight of Keith cuddling with a kitten didn't make his heart melt. 

...

The two stepped through the door to Allura's castle, Lance holding the kitten's cage in one hand and Keith's hand in the other. Their footsteps echoed in the vast chamber, the sound so familiar from the months he had lived here that it barely registered in Lance's ears. He'd never really stopped being amazed by the place, even when it eventually became home base for the Voltron operation. The castle had been the place where everything began, and it still felt strange to have such obvious evidence of his interstellar travels in his very own home. 

Coran was waiting for them, retracting his hand from the button he'd pushed to let them in. "Welcome back, boys," he said. "I wish we could stay longer, but Shiro said-"

Lance saw Keith grimace out of the corner of his eye. "We got the message too, it's why we're here."

Coran smiled, closing the door with another push of a button. "Fantastic, so you already know everything! I suppose we must be off, then."

"Wait, Coran!" Lance exclaimed, taking a half step forward, holding the cage out slightly. He could hear his heart, thudding in anticipation. He'd be happy, right? And Coran deserved to have that delighted expression on his face all of the time. He took a deep breath, almost shaking with barely contained excitement. "There's something you've got to see."

"Oh?" Coran cranned his head at a comical angle as he attempted to see inside the cage at the odd position Lance was holdig it. 

"Y-yeah." Lance knelt down, the cold of the floor tiles seeping through the denim of his jeans and biting at his knees. "It's something I think you're really gonna like." He set the cage down and opened it carefully, reaching inside and gathering the kitten into his arms. The soft fur brushed against his hands and he shuddered at the tickling sensation.

With all the conviction he could muster, he thrust the kitten up at Coran. "He doesn't have a name yet," he whispered conspiratorially, arching his eyebrows like the words were a sensitive secret. "That means you're gonna have to name him, buddy."

And Coran's smile was everything he hoped it would be, it seemed as if he was lighting up from the inside out. "Lance?" His voice was oddly small, heavily tinged with question. He was asking permission, Lance realized, to hold it. As well as confirmation that his interpretation of the situation was correct. 

Lance only smiled. "Go on, take him."

With a delighted intake of breath, Coran scooped the kitten from Lance's hands, holding him up in front of his face, the wrinkles deepening at the corners of his eyes. "Oh, Lance, he's perfect!" Coran held the kitten up to his body with one arm, using his other hand to stoke its head. 

Keith gave a tired sigh, but when Lance turned to look, the corners of his mouth were turned up. "Glad you like it. Lance was just endlessly fretting over whether you would-"

"Was not!" Lance shot back, getting back to his feet and brushing off his jeans. 

Coran continued as if pretending not to hear them. "I'm just speechless, my boy, I heard you humans domesticated creatures such as felis catus, but I never imagined that I would be able to partake in your custom!" 

"I'm sure Keith would love to teach you how to properly take care of one of Earth's very own feline residents," Lance assured, pointedly ignoring the indignant nudge against his shoulder. "And if he sucks at it, I'll take one for the team."

Keith, who seemed to have decided that it was pointless to continue to argue, just smiled weakly and moved up to scratch under the content kitten's chin.  "Lance said you could name it, didn't he? Have any ideas?" 

"Yes!" Coran boomed, making Keith flinch back at the volume. "Pterodactyl. I want to call him Pterodactyl." Lance couldn't help but grin at that, because how could it have been anything else?"

"Um..." Keith managed, confusion marring his features. Lance swore that Keith's eyebrows were about to disappear into his hairline, with that expression he was pulling. 

Lance moved up to set a hand on his shoulder. "I'll explain later." 

Keith inclined his head slightly, still directing his gaze towards the kitten. "I would hope so."

"Well," Lance declared, gesturing at the kitten in Coran's arms with an upturned palm. "I guess that settles it." He let his voice rise, trilling his syllables for emphasis as he spoke. "I present to you, Pterodactyl, the newest member of Team Voltron."

**Author's Note:**

> YES I KNOW THERE ARE TONE PROBLEMS AND THE PACING SUCKS AND THIS STYLE MAKES NO SENSE AND IS GENERALLY UNREADABLE AND INCONSISTENT AND KIND OF BORING I'M SORRY  
> Kudos and comments make me happy, okay? Have a nice day.


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